


we are the poisoned youth

by sungyeowl



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, the title has nothing to do with the fic okay i just like fall out boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungyeowl/pseuds/sungyeowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Minho’s not sure how he ends up with a guy named Thomas in a random café at 6am, but <i>he does</i>; and he finds his irritation fading away when Thomas forces him to eat three bagels and laughs at how Minho kept harassing his chair (as he calls it) at the cinema.</p><p> </p><p>(or: a fulfillment of "<b>kept kicking the back of my chair at the theatre</b>" prompt someone suggested on tumblr ^^)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are the poisoned youth

**Author's Note:**

> hi!  
> some anon cutie asked me to write this, so here you go, buns!  
> the fic is posted [here](http://annatries.tumblr.com/post/107902118354/would-you-be-okay-with-writing-a-short-oneshot-or) on my blog, and you buns - feel free to ask or suggest fic(lets) to me, my mind is open - as is my askbox : D

 

The first time Fry offers to go and see a marathon of the Hobbit movies with the premiere of The Battle of the Five Armies as the last one, Minho is reluctant. He doesn’t really like 3d (his eyes hurt and those stupid glasses _never_ fit his head, okay) and the thought of waiting approximately 5 or so hours to see a new film seems kind of off, but his friend is insistent and stubborn (and annoying as hell), so he gives in, eventually.

Which turns out to be a fucking mistake when Frypan is hit with a sudden stomach flu a few hours before the screening and Minho is left alone - pretty much _ditched_ \- with two tickets in the highest row, spent-and-not-to-be-returned money and no one in Fry’s place to go with.

He would probably say _shuck it_ and not go at all, but the ticket was pricey, okay, he could buy like two dinners with the money he spent on it – and that’s that, you don’t easily throw away money you could use to buy food, that’s Minho’s first and the most important rule.

So in the evening Minho finds himself at the cinema, surrounded by excited fans _and_ their friends carrying popcorn and cokes around, while he literally has got a pack of pretzels on him for the whole night. Stifling a deep and exasperated sigh, he moves slowly towards the cinema worker letting people in, deciding to just roll with it and enjoy himself as much as he will be able to.

 

It’s not as bad as Minho thought it would be – Frypan is absent so the seat next to him is empty, and apparently so, the one on the other side of him – is empty, too. Everything seems a little better when he notices that the room isn’t actually fully packed with people, and so far no one seems to the potential loud and obnoxious person that will disturb everyone around them. Settling down in a little happier mood, Minho muses that – okay, maybe coming here alone (whether willingly or not) wasn’t _the worst_ idea, either.

 

Minho changes his mind when the Desolation of Smaug starts, because fuck it, of course someone _had_ to start being a freaking little pest, right? A guy sitting in the row below, _right in front of Minho_ , starts making annoying comments to a person sitting to his left – his friend? or god forbid another poor stranger who just wanted to see a fucking film in peace, apparently not caring if anyone else hears.

As the comments and little laughs progress into higher levels of _stupid_ and _irritating_ , Minho grits his teeth and tries to calm himself down, just so he doesn’t make a scene at a shucking cinema. He could possibly change seats or leave altogether – but he paid for this exact place and he’s going to see the film in this exact place (and he doesn’t want to bother other people, walking around and looking for a free chair, he’s got more dignity than that, okay), but he won’t, so he just sits and tries to focus on Bilbo and the dwarves.

He cannot, though, do it anymore when the BOFA starts and the guy down below gets so excited he starts jumping up and down. The glasses dig uncomfortably in the sides of Minho’s head and he just loses it, he can’t restrain himself anymore – he kicks the backrest of the guy’s chair with the tip of his combat boot.

It seems to help, but only for the time being – the annoying man falters for about ten minutes, and then proceeds with his stupid fucking comments. Closing his eyes tightly and heaving out a deep breath, Minho decides to hide good manners into his pocket and to teach the shank a lesson.

So Minho just keeps kicking the chair every time. _Every. Single. Time_. The guy has got to be pretty thick-headed, though, because he doesn’t stop and only turns around to grace Minho with an uninterested look when the man curses out loud.

 

Needles to say, Minho doesn’t know shit from the last movie, being unable to focus on it. When the screening ends – finally – he leaves the room, angry, sleepy, tired and hungry, his bladder uncomfortably full. He doesn’t go to the toilet, though, knowing that the crowd will clog it, so he just makes his way out.

The early morning air is fresh and crispy, which clears his head a little when Minho steps out and moves to the side to button his coat up and lace one of his boots tighter, before he makes it to the tube.

“Hey,” he hears when he’s almost done with adjusting the laces. A frown appearing on his face, Minho straightens up, confused – just to see a quite tall, brown-haired boy standing in front of him.

“Hey…?” Minho inquiries, eyebrows wandering up; he has no time nor willingness for strangers approaching him in this very moment.

“You’re the guy who kept kicking the back of my chair,” the guy informs happily, smiling at Minho widely as if he were fucking proud of it – which he probably is, looking at his cheeky smile and weirdly bright attitude. Minho just wants to scream.

“Yeah, apparently,” Minho manages to squeeze out, tightening his fists. “What do you want?”

“Would you perhaps…” the guy trails off for a second, his eyes scanning Minho up and down. His eyes are brown and his skin is dusted with a pattern of moles, and he’s smirking smugly which makes Minho just want to yell and maybe punch him in the face to get rid of the cockiness. “…care to maybe get a coffee with me? Or a tea? Or some bagels, whatever you pref-”

“Oh my god, shut up, shut up,” Minho cuts him off quickly, his hands shooting up to grip at the hair on the sides of his head, because how is this guy fucking real?! “You’re fuckin’ joking, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah… Not really,” the guy shrugs, the smile still there, his eyes still piercing Minho’s, obviously waiting for an answer. “So? I know I annoyed you-”

“No shit!”

“-I just didn’t know how to start a conversation. So what do you say? A breakfast on me as a compensation for ruining your movie night?”

“You _are_ shucking serious,” Minho’s eyes almost pop out of his skull but the guy just laughs and nods, then doesn’t wait for an answer; he grabs at Minho’s elbow and pulls him lightly, and Minho actually follows, too dumbstruck and annoyed to refuse. “I’m Thomas, by the way.”

 

Minho’s not sure how he ends up with a guy named Thomas in a random café at 6am, but _he does_ ; and he finds his irritation fading away when Thomas forces him to eat three bagels and laughs at how Minho kept harassing his chair (as he calls it) in the cinema; and Minho feels the urge to kick him a few more times for being cheeky and for irritating the klunk out of him before, but agrees nonetheless when Thomas proposes they go and see The Battle of the Five Armies again – the two of them only – and calls it _a date_.

 


End file.
